Here go a preparatory story of a gorey king fell from glory/
mandatory sunny days don't stay, but they return to stormy/
borin Maury-type whores implored me for a moment of notice/
smokin on lotus leaves amidst redwood trees in the forest/
came from a Taurus to a Heckler, then back to the poorest/
Moorish Science like-minded, sold my flour like a florist/
stay the night, devour porridge, but didn't see the trap doors/
descended near my end pretendin friends wasn't actors/
kept my back towards the wall, recovered quick from the fall/
stood tall for all seasons, killed y'all reasons to cook raw/
shook the pigs like it's football, nixin' the richer politicians/
no crook, y'all, hood law got me runnin back to the corners blitzin/
mixin wit Krishnas, vixens, and so-called Christians, listenin/
to advice from Christ-like men and mice, removin the venom in/
my system, gained wisdom from my Biblical umbilical cord/
my pinnacle soared from cynical wards to still live for the Lord...
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